


Ghosts of Past and Future

by jessejackreyes



Series: Dreams of Past and Future and Related Works [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Depression, Facing one's mistakes, Forgiveness, Gen, Heroes, Hope, More tags to be added, Newfound Friendship, Regrets, Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 23:12:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12023049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessejackreyes/pseuds/jessejackreyes
Summary: Dr Angela Ziegler has fought many battles, both literal and figurative. Her past full of brilliant triumphs and brutal failures. One of the hardest things she has ever faced arrives in the form of a letter that she can't bring herself to open.What's inside will start her on a journey to face her greatest regrets, bringing with it both danger and hope for herself and the future.





	Ghosts of Past and Future

**Author's Note:**

> This story follows Mercy throughout the events of Dreams of Past and Future. This chapter takes place before chapter one, that is to say before Hanzo and Genji fight in Hanamura. It's going to be multiple chapter and involve a few characters. It also involves a few of my headcanons for Mercy that I'm not sure if anyone else shares, but I like them.

The first thing she does, stumbling home late at night is collapse into her bed. No eating, no proper hygiene, no changing clothes, she had no energy for any of that. She had not slept in a little over twenty four hours, too busy treating children, sewing up wounds. There was no time for sleep. She only returned here when she knew continuing would simply be endangering the patients under her care.

 

From the outside it might seem that all of this work was wearing down on her, but people who knew her very well would tell you the truth. Angela Ziegler excelled at avoiding things through work. As long as she was busy working, she never had to think about personal things, difficult, heavy things. She wanted the work, the distraction. As far as she knew, she would go crazy if she wasn't able to collapse into nearly immediate unconsciousness. Waiting to fall asleep was the worst time for thinking, remembering, considering, regretting.

 

If she was ever forced to sit still and actually think about the situation, she might note that things were worse than usual. Her system of working too much had never been a healthy one, something her friends often reminded her of. With their help, she had usually managed to control it enough so that it wasn't usually a major problem. Working herself to the edge of exhaustion only to collapse into sleep and repeat the process was extreme even for her.

 

In her clearer moments, when she can’t escape her worries completely, she would find herself drawn back to the letter she had received nearly a week ago, the letter she had yet to bring herself to open. Finding it waiting for her had been quite the shock. A nice little envelope addressed to Dr. Angela Ziegler. She was no stranger to receiving letters, especially from former patients, but It was who had sent it that had shocked her into a workaholic frenzy. She almost believed that someone was pulling a cruel prank on her when she read the name, Genji  Shimada.

 

A letter from Genji was just about the last thing she ever expected to find waiting for her. They had always been on bad terms. Genji resented her for what she had done and made sure to make that very clear to her many times. On the best days the man would act cordial, on the worst he would stop just short of actual violence. More than once McCree had to intervene before things escalated, once going so far as shooting the cyborg.

 

She tried to help him, talk to him, get him to talk to somebody. For a long time, she had not understood where all of his anger at her had come from. She had been told on more than one occasion that she could be surprisingly dense for a medical genius. Angela did not understand at the time what losing so much of his body had meant to him, especially alongside the betrayal and loss of his family. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand that it would have been traumatising, but rather misunderstanding the degree and what it would cause. 

 

She awoke from a fitful sleep a mere few hours later. She knew that her manic and irregular schedule would catch up to her eventually. She had simply hoped it would take longer to do so. A few hours of struggling to sleep later and she found herself staring at the envelope again. She hadn’t moved it from the small table near the television she has almost never even turned on. The name Genji Shimada haunted her, taunted her. She was losing the battle against sleep, stress and time.

 

Angela Ziegler ran away from many things when she left Overwatch, but there were two things in particular that brought her great shame to this day, two things that she worked hard to avoid remembering. Genji Shimada was the first of these horrible mistakes. Before Genji she did not believe that it would be possible for her to regret saving a life. She had foolishly believed that no matter what, people wanted to live.

 

Her time with Genji was not a pleasant part of her life. The man had come to her a mangled mess that should not have even survived the trip to her lab, a sign of his great stubbornness. She helped develop the techniques and machinery that would keep him alive and replace most of his body with mechanical parts. She had saved his life, turning him into the world’s first true cyborg, an amalgam of biology and technology. Her work was brilliant, as usual.

 

The young man was angry. She had originally thought that his rage stemmed from his past, the betrayal of his family, his brother, but as time past he would show her differently. He had resented her and he eventually made it clear that he thought her a monster. She can’t even remember exactly what she did or said to set him off that particular day, she just remembered what he did, what he told her.

 

_ She turned away from him for a moment, heading over to check the results of some diagnostic or another. There was no sound to warn her that he had moved. Strong metallic hands wrapped around her roughly. _

 

_ “What are you doi…” Her question was interrupted when a sword was pressed against her neck. _

 

_ “Nothing you don’t deserve,” Genji replied coolly. Angela fought back the fear she felt at his words. A small sliver of blood escaped as she swallowed and felt the blade sinking into her neck, just a fraction of an inch. _

 

_ “What I deserve?” She asked tentatively. _

 

_ “For what you did to me,” Genji replied simply, his grip tightening around her. It was a struggle for Angela to keep herself still, moving or struggling would only lead to her hurting herself more. _

 

_ “For saving your life?” In hindsight that was probably not a smart thing to say, especially given how manic Genji had seemed. _

 

_ “Is that what you call it?” He laughed, hollow and cruel. He suddenly released her, sending her tumbling forward, struggling to keep her balance. She turned to face the man now and she could see the anger in his eyes. He gestured to himself, his body, as he spoke,  “This is your idea of saving me? This monstrosity?” _

 

_ “It was the only way I could keep you alive,” _

 

_ “And you never thought for a second that that was a sign that you shouldn’t have?” The stare he leveled at her could have boiled someone’s blood. _

 

_ “What was I supposed to do?” She countered, tears threatening to spill, held back by her own anger. “Just leave you to die?” _

 

_ “Yes!” Genji screamed. “I would rather have died than become this!” _

 

_ “That’s not true...” Genji lunged at her with a snarl, slamming her back into the wall. He wrapped a metal hand around her neck, squeezing, cutting off her airways. She gripped his arm, pulling futilely against his grip. _

 

_ “Don’t you dare tell me what I want,” His voice was quieter now, but much more threatening. “You did not give a single thought to what I wanted when you made me into this-” He paused briefly, trying to find the right words while she struggled to breathe. “-thing, so don’t pretend that you know a thing about me, that you care one bit,” He released his hold as her grip grew feeble and she collapsed against the wall, gasping heavily. _

 

_ “Let’s make one thing absolutely clear doctor, you did not save my life,” Genji spoke calmly while she struggled to steady her breathing. “These people did not want a person or even a soldier, doctor,” He spat the title out, disgusted. “They wanted a weapon. You were all too happy to oblige them. You made me into a monster, the weapon that they wanted. You gave my reins to these people. They may have used me, but only because you willingly enabled them,” Angela struggled to her feet. “The only reason I did not kill you years ago was that I wanted revenge on my clan more than you. And now, the only reason I am not going to is that, luckily for you, the one person I actually like here would be upset with me if I did,” _

 

_ Genji watched calmly while Angela struggled back to her feet. Her breathing had mostly calmed by now, but she was still clearly shaken. She looked for a moment like she was going to say something, but nothing ever came. She merely stared at Genji, as if her gaze could get her what she wanted from him. _

 

_ “I believe we are done here,” Genji announced, making to leave. His voice challenged Angela to contradict him. “In the future doctor, do not pretend to be my friend. Do your job and I’ll do mine. I do not need any more of your so-called mercy,” _

 

_ She watched him walk out of the door before turning her attention to the small wound on her neck. She went through the motions of cleaning it, busying herself to keep from falling apart then and there. She was grateful that there was always so much to do, it kept her occupied as long as she wanted them to. _

 

These memories were one of the many reasons she was trying so very hard not to think about herself. Her past mistakes, her regrets haunted her, but she could not let them keep her from doing her job, helping people. It was a self reinforcing cycle. Her job kept her from having to remember and whenever the memories crept in she would be pushed to work even harder to help people.

 

Eventually she knew that something would have to give. Perhaps reliving one of her worst memories was the final straw. Facing what she had done to that young man, without his permission and how much he had suffered because of her had brought her to her nightstand. The letter sat there, unopened, as it had since she had received it. She reached a hand over slowly, determined to face whatever was inside.

 

_ Dear Dr. Angela Ziegler, _

 

_ I hope that this letter finds you in good health and good spirits. _

 

_ I had intended to write to you sooner, but I did not have the nerve until now. I have found myself in a very different situation since I parted ways with Overwatch and it has truly been for the better. For quite some time I have found myself under the tutelage of a monk who has been helping me to come to terms with my past and myself. I have been learning to master my anger and to accept myself for what I am. _

 

_ I have struggled very heavily with my new body since I awoke to it several years ago. At first I was angry at my family; it was easy to deal with when that was the case. But, as time passed and those wounds were no longer fresh, much of that anger turned towards what had happened to me. Everything was different. Food tasted wrong, the mechanical sensors made everything feel wrong, muted. I had to relearn how to do everything, walking, fighting. I hated it, feeling so different, inhuman. It didn’t help that being remade into a weapon was little different than what my family had wanted from me, had killed me for refusing. _

 

_ I know that many of the people there did not see me as less than human, as simply a weapon. Commanders Morrison and Reyes always treated me with the same respect they did any other agent. Tracer challenged me to races and didn’t let my sour attitude ruin things. Jesse, especially, was always there for me when my thoughts went places I didn’t want. They, like you, were complicit in making me what I am, though I was never just a weapon to them. _

 

_ As the clan died, my anger needed another outlet. I lashed out at many people, most of all you. I blamed you for what was done to me, not just because you were involved in the decision, but because without you it would have been impossible. Things would have been easier if you had just left me there and the fact that you wouldn’t acknowledge how I felt, couldn’t accept that I would rather have been dead, made me furious. _

 

_ It was only when I started lashing out at Jesse that I ended up running away before I did something I would regret. I travelled far and wide, mostly aimlessly until I found myself in Nepal. A member of the Shambali monks, named Zenyatta, saved my life and I became his student in return. He is kind, compassionate and patient, almost to a fault. He is also very wise. _

 

_ I have learned so much from him, but perhaps nothing so great as acceptance. I may not understand exactly what I am, what it means to be both man and machine, but I have slowly learned to stop hating myself for it. I have also taken the time to face myself. I do not believe that I have ever been a good person. _

 

_ That is going to change, however. I will become someone that master Zenyatta can be proud of, someone who can look in a mirror and like what they see. Part of that involves righting many of the wrongs from my past. There are few things I have done that weigh on me as heavily as the way I treated you.  _

 

_ You played such a large role in the pain that I have had to endure, but you were also a big part of trying to help me. You went to great lengths to help me acclimate to my new body, adjusted it when I had problems. I know that you did not see me as a monster, that you had not helped me to brandish me as a weapon against Overwatch’s enemies, even if that is what happened. I understand that you were only trying to help me, that you try so hard to live up to your namesake. _

 

_ I wish to apologize to you doctor Ziegler. I treated you unfairly because I was angry and frustrated and simply done with everything. I applied malice to your actions that was clearly untrue. I threatened and attacked you. I am truly sorry for what I did. _

 

_ More so than wishing to apologize, however, I wish to thank you. I know I told you that you should have left me to die, and back then I did truly feel that way, but nowadays things are different, better. Zenyatta is teaching me to be happy again and, for the first time in so many years, I am not upset that you saved me. I am glad. Without you, I would never have met Zenyatta, never have begun finding this peace beyond anything I ever knew. None of this would have happened if I had died. _

 

_ So, from the very bottom of my heart, thank you for saving my life. _

 

_ Sincerely, _

_ Genji Shimada _

 

Of all the things that she had thought that this might be, a letter like this was so far away from a possibility in her mind as to be unthinkable. She wiped away tears that she had not noticed falling. She did not remember starting to cry, nor falling to her knees as she continued to read it over and over.. She had read it several times before she dared to believe that it was real, that it wasn’t some cruel joke or delusion.

 

She didn’t know how long she simply held the, now tear stained, letter. She only moved when the tears that had started falling turned to sobs. For the first time in years she felt her old self swelling up inside of her, a young woman full of hope, who wanted, more than anything, to help other people. Angela had resigned herself to having lost that idealism long ago, buried it away deep inside when she had learned how much hope can hurt. But right now, this single letter tore down all of those walls she had spent years building and brought it all roaring back to life. 

 

As she cried, at that moment, she was no longer Dr. Angela Ziegler, she was Angie again; the young doctor that people had nicknamed Mercy and it felt better than she ever thought it would. Her tears right then were born of happiness and grief, sorrow and joy. She cried for everything that she had bottled up for so very long, because Angela was stoic and hardened, but Angie felt with all of her heart, even when people told her that it would only hurt her in the end. Angie was not afraid to hope and to fight for that hope until she had nothing left in her.

 

Angie let herself cry and truly feel the weight of her sins pressing down on her for perhaps the first time. That pain was a lesson learned through practise, of mistakes never to be repeated. No matter how much it hurt, it would not crush Angie. She would bear all of the weight with a strength that Angela had forgotten she had and somehow be all the stronger for it. 

 

She wasn’t exactly sure what all of this meant for her future, what she was supposed to do now. She had so many things to consider, including whether or not she should write him back. Before she could even begin to dwell on what she was going to do exhaustion overtook her, that simple letter had worn her out. All she knew was that Angie was ready for a good night’s sleep. Everything else could wait until morning.


End file.
